


You My Friend, Are Fucked Up

by Stiles_Hale_38



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blow Jobs, Come Swallowing, Dark, Dark Character, Don't Like Don't Read, Human Derek Hale, M/M, Public Blow Jobs, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Serial Killer Stiles Stilinski, Serial Killers, Skull Fucking, Vampire Stiles Stilinski, Vampires, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:40:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25249303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stiles_Hale_38/pseuds/Stiles_Hale_38
Summary: A dark, and I mean dark, vampire blow job one shot. . . yeah that's pretty much it.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 8
Kudos: 72





	You My Friend, Are Fucked Up

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written literally anything like this. I wanted to dip my toe into the dark, sort of horror side of things, so this is (possibly?) the beginning. WARNING: this is DARK. Stiles does bad things, and feels no remorse. Derek is fucked up, Stiles is fucked up. Mkay. . . you've been warned.

He used to wish things weren't like this. That he wasn't like this. That things would change, or that perhaps he would finally wake up from this nightmare. 

Once you live a certain way for so long though, you start to get used to it. You don't see the world as so beautiful. You don't see yourself as a monster. You don't see others as victims. You start to understand what you truly are, and know that nothing will ever change.

He knew he was fucked up. He knew he should feel sorry for himself, no. . . feel sorry for the others he had hurt. But he couldn't bring himself to feel this way. Couldn't bring himself to feel. . . anything.

He would stare into their eyes as their life left their body. He would sometimes imagine their souls dragging themselves out of their lifeless bodies, still trying to flee from the monster in front of them. That used to bother him, now, it was part of the fun.

After living as a monster for so long, Stiles learned to embrace the fun stuff. Like holding hearts in his hand as they gave their final beat, feeling the blood drip down his chin, covering his chest in warmth, feeling their body vibrate as they tried to scream. These were the little things that felt oh so good. 

He no longer remembered what life was like before, before he embraced who he was. He knew he probably had friends, a job, hobbies. But he knew that life couldn't have been this good. No worries, no fear, no concerns. He was alone in this world, completely, and that was just the way he liked it.

He stared into her eyes as they faded black, blood still running down her neck as he watched with a smile. He stroked her cheek, she had such perfect skin, it was a shame that it would be rotting soon. So pale and soft, so lovely. 

Licking his lips, he dropped her lifeless body, hitting the ground with a thud. He smiled at the site, hair covering her face, sticking to her torn out neck. He could smell her blood, now beginning to clot around her wound. She had broken a heel, trying to flee. How foolish of her. No one could ever outrun him.

Stiles had gotten quite a name for himself, he had been called many things of course. He was featured in the newspaper, in an article, or on the television almost daily. Of course, no one had seen his face and lived, no one knew his name, where he came from, or where he was going next. No one knew how to stop him, or how long this would go on. It had been over a hundred years of course. A hundred years of terror.

His style changed over the years, he didn't put forth much effort to being fancy anymore, no more writing in blood, or ripping off heads, or tearing off flesh, no. . . He used to find it fun to scare the public, now it was almost a nuisance. He found it much more satisfying to hear the screams of those he held in his arms. Perhaps he would find something new to do soon. He did quite like the name of "The Rampant Ripper."

He gave the woman a final look, a final goodbye, before he turned away from her. She would be found soon enough.

Walking through the ally, he enjoyed the crisp wind against his cold cheek. He listened to it rustle the leaves, the trash against the street, scraping against the road. The wind dried the warm blood to a cold, sticky substance. Stiles knew it would be flaking off only momentarily. He thought about finding someone else, how he missed that warm feeling of blood against his skin, but with a sigh he realized he was too tired, too bored.

Of course, he didn't need sleep or any sort of rest, but life at times got boring. Life was predictable, and though he had seen the many changes of the world, people remained the same. Fragile, narcissistic, and above all, predicable.

Stiles watched his feet hit the wet cement, it had rained recently, but the sky had cleared up, revealing a brightly speckled night sky. It was a full moon tonight and he welcomed the moonlight against his pale skin. Naturally, he didn't much care for the sun.

As he continued walking, he heard something in front of him. Soon, out came a man. He was tall and quite muscular, wearing a simple grey shirt, black jeans, and a black leather jacket. His hair was cropped short, but styled quite nicely, looking slightly wet from the previous rain shower. The man's eyes flickered to him, it was always quite interesting to find another man wondering the allies at such a late time. Perhaps the man would try to kill him, or rob him. How much fun that would be. 

The man did not approach him, but rather continued to observe him as Stiles continued to walk forward, unafraid. Stiles was well aware of his appearance, blood covering him from his lips to about the bottom of his shirt. It had stained him crimson in many areas, now drying to a dark maroon. The man however, did not seem to be afraid. 

Stiles began to get closer and saw how gorgeous the man really was. He could just eat him up.

He finally arrived in front of the man, who looked at him curiously.

"It's quite late for someone to be wondering the streets, wouldn't you say?" Stiles asked.

"I could say the same about you." His voice was low and smooth like honey, enticing Stiles. Perhaps he would have desert tonight.

Stiles wondered if perhaps it was too dark, that maybe the man couldn't truly see his appearance, but glancing at the glowing orange street light to his right, he saw that this was not the case.

"Tell me then, sugar, what do you think you're doing out here on a night like this? It's a full moon you know, all the crazy's come out." Stiles smirked, revealing his still red stained teeth. He liked to savor the taste of his meal.

"I was looking for something."

"Trouble?"

"Perhaps." The man spoke calm, unsurprised still. In a way, this was slightly unnerving. Stiles was yet to meet someone who did not fear him.

"You may have just found what you were looking for."

"How can I be so sure?" The man cocked his head to the side.

Stiles took a step forward, placing a single finger on the mans chest, dragging it down slowly, watching the way it slightly rose and fell over the curves of the man's abs.

"What's your name?" Stiles purred.

"Derek."

Stiles smiled. "And are you afraid, Derek?" He drug his finger down slightly further, until he rested his entire hand on his crotch.

"No." The man smiled.

This was certainly interesting, never had Stiles encountered a moment like this. The man was clearly human, he could hear his heart beating, the blood flowing through his veins, and yet, he sensed no fear.

"Why?" Stiles asked, pressing harder.

"Now, now, that would just ruin the fun." The man placed a hand on Stiles' hip, smirking. 

With a smile, Stiles slowly unbuttoned the mans pants, slipping his hand in. Derek sucked in a breath quickly, smiling down at Stiles. 

Without hesitation, Stiles sank down to his knees, pulling Derek's cock out and pushing him back until he was leaning against the brick wall.

"Tell me, Derek," Stiles spoke, slowly stroking Derek's dick. "Where are you from?"

"I've from a lot of different places."

Stiles hummed. This was fun. He slowly licked a strip up Derek's cock, making the man lean his head back against the wall.

"Are you not going to ask me where I am from?" Surely the man had questions.

"I figure you wouldn't give me a real answer either."

Stiles chuckled, he was right.

Wasting no more time, Stiles wrapped his lips around Derek's cock, sucking him hard and slow. The man sucked in a quick breath, slipping his hand into Stiles' hair, gripping the back of his skull.

Derek was huge, but Stiles was experienced, moaning as his dick hit the back of his throat. Derek smirked, pushing Stiles down further, making him choke from surprise.

Stiles hummed, looking up at Derek, who was breathing heavily. Derek swiped his thumb under Stiles' lip, collecting a small drop of blood. Stiles watched intensely as Derek licked his thumb, cleaning it off with a smirk.

Stiles dick throbbed in his pants, and he quickly unbuckled and unzipped his pants, grabbing his cock and stroking it quickly. He matched their paces, Derek's breath getting even more erratic.

He gripped the back of Stiles head, shoving him down repeatedly, bringing tears to Stiles' eyes, but he fucking loved it. He moaned around the cock in his mouth, making Derek's vibrate in pleasure as he came down his throat. Stiles came soon after with a groan, as he swallowed down Derek's load.

He popped off, licking his lip, now mixed with cum and blood. What a glorious taste.

"You, my friend, are fucked up." Stiles laughed, voice raspy.

Derek squatted down slowly, so that they were eye to eye. He leaned in for a small kiss, licking his lips after, tasting.

"You have no idea."

**Author's Note:**

> Whelp. . . there we are. Like I said, dark. But let me know what you thought, it was just a short little something. Thanks for reading!
> 
> Tumblr: stiles-halee


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